


Long Time, No See

by NightSkyWriter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Brothers, Dean Winchester Whump, Family, Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Mentions of Blood, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, POV Dean Winchester, POV Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester needs to finish his essay, Sam Winchester to the Rescue, Second chapter is, Stabbing, Stanford Era (Supernatural), Stanford Student Sam Winchester, mentions of alcohal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29348397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightSkyWriter/pseuds/NightSkyWriter
Summary: Sam is at Stanford when he gets a call. Dean is in trouble.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 19
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

There were always people in the library no matter the time. Usually, Sam wasn't one of them, but tonight he was with the other students. He preferred to do his work in the morning and days before an assignment was due, but he hadn't had the option for this one. His computer had glitched, deleting his finished essay. Now, he had to cram to rewrite the essay in time.

Sam's eyes were beginning to burn from looking at the laptop's screen. The paper was due in the morning before class and he'd already been working on it for a few hours. Sam didn't even like the subject. He'd only chosen it in the hopes that it would look good on his college transcript.

Sam rested his chin on his hand as he proofread the essay again. He needed a good grade for this one.

His phone rang and Sam quickly grabbed it before the ringing got the attention of anyone else in the library.

"This is Sam. What's up?" Sam asked, continuing to scan the essay.

"Hey, Sammy. Long time no see."

Sam frowned, turning his full attention to the phone call. "Dean?"

It'd been nearly a year since he'd left for Stanford. He hadn't heard from Dean or his father since.

"I have a small problem. Think you could help me out?" Dean asked. He sounded stressed. Probably from calling Sam. Sam tried not to think about how bad their relationship had deteriorated for Dean to sound stressed from just calling Sam.

Sam sighed. As if he didn't have enough problems of his own. He leaned back in his chair.

"I'm in the middle of an essay that's due tomorrow. Can this wait?" Sam already had a feeling he knew the answer. He doubted Dean would have called him unless it was the only option.

"Wish it could wait, but I have a bit of a situation here."

"Alright, what is it?" Sam asked. He leaned forward; finger positioned above his keyboard ready to look up any creature Dean needed information on. If there wasn't anything in Dad's journal about it, then it wasn't going to be easy to find anything online.

Dean didn't reply for a minute and Sam looked at his phone, wondering if Dean had hung up. He hadn't. "Dean? You still there?"

"Hmm?"

"What is it Dean?" Sam repeated.

"Uh, San Jose."

Sam stopped. "San Jose? Like, San Jose, California?"

"You know of another?"

"Yes."

On the other side of the line, Dean sighed, exasperation clear. "Yes, Sam. The one in California. I need you to come pick me up. I can't drive right now."

Sam's grip on the phone tightened until stopped for fear of snapping it. He should have noticed the listless way Dean was talking. He should have noticed when Dean had stopped talking as if he'd passed out for a moment.

"Are you drunk?" Sam asked, unable to keep the anger out of his voice. Of course, the reason Dean would call him after a year of not talking would be because Dean was too drunk to drive.

"No."

"How many have you had Dean? And what was it this time? Too many beers or did you just cut to the chase and grab something stronger?"

Sam stood, stuffing his computer in his bag and throwing it over his shoulder.

"I'm not drunk, Sam."

Sam rolled his eyes as he pushed open the door of the library and stepped out into the parking lot. He got to his car and unlocked it.

"Cut the crap," Sam snapped. He had an essay due that was worth too much of his grade. He didn’t need to be dealing with this right now. "Where are you?"

"You're coming?"

"Of course, I am."

"I don't know where I am. I see a-" Dean stopped talking and Sam hoped he was looking around, not just passing out again. How much had Dean had for it to knock him out? Sam remembered Dean's alcohol tolerance was high enough to drink most under the table. "I see a In and Out?"

Sam ran though his memory of In and Out's in San Jose.

"I'm on my way. Don't move."

Sam shut his phone, effectively hanging up. Even if Dean did decide to move, Sam doubted he would make it far. Not if he was in bad enough shape that he'd resorted to calling Sam.

Sam stepped out of the car and slammed the door shut behind him.

  
  


"Dean!" He yelled. He was at the fast-food joint, but he didn't see any sign of Dean.

The parking lot was empty. They’d probably closed hours ago.

When he didn't hear a reply, Sam headed for the back of the building. He would at least do a perimeter check before moving on the check the next place.

"Dean!"

Sam walked around the corner where the restaurant kept their dumpsters.

He saw a figure slumped against the wall. Sam shook his head, as he walked over. He leaned down, preparing to shake Dean awake. He expected to smell whichever alcohol Dean had chosen, but instead all he smelled was the metallic scent of blood.

The annoyance Sam had felt melted into panic.

"Dean," Sam said, shaking Dean's shoulder.

After a moment, Dean's eyes barely opened. "Sam?"

"Hey, man." Sam did a quick scan. In the poor lighting, he couldn't see much, but the bottom half of Dean's shirt was covered in a dark stain. Blood. It'd been a while since Sam had seen that much blood. "What happened?"

"The shifter had a knife, Sam."

Sam gritted his teeth. Dean was only supposed to be drunk. That was it. Not bleeding out behind a restaurant. Sam glanced around. He didn't see Dad. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

"I didn't recognize him. Not in time anyway."

Sam shook his head. "I'm going to lift you up, alright? You think you can stand?"

"Jury's out."

Sam slung Dean's arm over his shoulder, taking most of Dean's weight. He tried to move as easily as possible, but Dean still grimaced.

"Sorry." Sam started towards his car. "You staying around here?"

Sam didn't think they would be able to reach his dorm before they were seen. He really didn't want to try and explain this when he was going by his real name.

"Yeah," Dean said.

Sam was reaching for the passenger door handle, when Dean's head lolled and Sam was suddenly supporting all of Dean's weight.

"Damn it!" Sam stumbled before he braced the best he could to keep from dropping Dean. He opened the car door.

He set Dean in the passenger seat then checked the left, inside pocket of Dean’s jacket. He found what he was looking for. A room key. The motel's name was written across the top.

Sam jogged around the car to get in the driver's seat.

"Dean?" Sam asked, as he put the car in gear. When Dean didn't reply, Sam tapped his shoulder. "Dean? You with me?"


	2. Chapter 2

Dean was not sure what woke him up. Perhaps it was the door slamming shut a few doors down or the dog barking in the room above his motel room. However, he blamed it on his brother who sat a few feet away. He was looking at his computer with way too much intensity. He looked like he was thinking loud enough to wake Dean. Dean mentally marked Sam down as the guilty party.

He wasn't sure what Sam was doing here. Last thing Dean remembered, he'd been fighting a shapeshifter. It'd changed out of the skin Dean had seen it in and changed into clothes that weren't covered in its last victim's blood. The outfit had been blood-free until the thing stabbed Dean at least.

All three of the victims so far had been college students. It was why Dean had taken the case and left Dad alone on a werewolf hunt. Dad couldn't leave that case, so Dean had to come alone. They couldn't risk leaving a case to wait when it involved college students near Sammy.

Dean turned slightly to get a better look at Sam and was instead reminded of the wound in his side. It was the sharp pain he would have expected. It felt like he had taken some kind of pain medication, but Dean had left it in the Impala. He hadn't had it with him. And he certainly didn't remember taking anything. But then, he also didn't remember how he got to the motel and for the life of him, he couldn't remember why Sam was there.

Dean was supposed to get in, solve the case, and get out of California before Sam had a chance to find out Dean was even in the area.

Instead, they were both in a motel room. Sam had his laptop set up on a table the Dean remembered being on the far side of the room. Sam probably dragged it over so he would be closer. 

He was a lot taller than he'd been the last time Dean had seen him. Sure, the kid was already tall when he left for college, but now... He was probably taller than Dean. It wasn't a thought Dean liked.

"What are you working on?" Dean asked, causing Sam to jump. Usually, Dean wouldn't have been able to startle Sam so easy, but once Sam focused on something, he had a tendency to drown out the rest of the world.

"Um, an essay. I got an extension from the professor. It doesn't matter." Sam shook his head. He turned his attention to Dean with enough focus to frighten the average person. ""What happened?"

Dean frowned. "I was hoping you could explain that," Dean said. "What are you doing here?"

"You called me. I had to find you bleeding out behind a restaurant."

Dean didn't remember any of that. When the shifter had stabbed him, he hadn't been near a restaurant. Had he walked that far with a hole in his side?

"I wasn't bleeding out," Dean said. "Don't be dramatic."

"Would you have called me if you weren't?"

He wouldn't have called Sam and they both knew it. It'd become an unspoken rule between his Dad and himself. Neither mentioned Sam. It was better that way. Besides, if Sam had a problem he'd call. There was no need to discuss it.

But just because Sam had a point didn't mean Dean had to admit it.

Dean grabbed a knife off the bedside table. He handed it to Sam.

"I'm running a shifter case. I need to know you're you."

Sam scowled, but rolled up his sleeves. He made a shallow cut on the back of his arm. Sam gave the knife back to Dean and grabbed a towel to cover his arm.

"I already checked you," Sam said, when Dean started to make a cut on his own arm. "Your hand."

Dean looked down. Sure enough, his hand was already bandaged. Dean nodded. _Not bad._

"What did you give me?"

Sam shrugged. "I found some kind of pain meds in the Impala. But they're going out of date soon, so you're going to need to switch them out."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Mom."

"Where is Dad? I went back and searched the area after I stitched you up, but I couldn't find him."

"That's because he isn't here. He's in Colorado. Werewolf."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "You're here alone? You're doing a shapeshifter case by yourself?"

Dean shrugged and chose not to admit this was the first time he'd done a case by himself. "There were two cases. Dad took one, I took the other. It's not a big deal."

"You could have died last night."

Dean grinned. "You of all people know that isn't as big a deal in our line of work. We're almost in a 'could have died' situation."

Sam shook his head. " _Your_ line of work. I'm not doing that anymore."

"Right," Dean said, smile falling. He looked away from Sam. "How could I forget?"

Dean moved the blankets and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He moved too fast and the wound in his side made its self-known again.

"Dean," Sam said, starting to stand.

Dean stood, choosing to just ignore the way the stab wound was now alternating between throbbing and feeling like he'd been stabbed all over again. "I'm fine."

He walked over to the mini fridge and pulled a beer out.

It'd been a year since Sam left him. Since Sam chose to leave everything and everyone and go to college. The past year had been the worst year of hunting that Dean remembered. He was constantly looking in the passenger seat to tell Sam something only to find it empty. He'd taken way too many hits from behind during hunts, because he was used to Sam having his six. He would think of a bad joke about a messy situation and he wouldn't have anyone to tell it to. He didn't get the same enjoyment out of hunting. Sure, it was nice still having Dad and Dean couldn't imagine a world without him, but Dad wasn't Sam.

But between the two, at least Dad had chosen to stay.

When he turned back around, Sam was looking at his computer again.

"I saw the files while you were out," Sam said, not looking at Dean. "That kid, Thomas-"

"James Thomas."

"Yeah. He was going to Stanford. So was Emily Pitterson."

Dean nodded.

"Is that why you came here? Because I'm here?"

Dean didn't look at Sam. It was Dean's job. Before being a hunter, before being a son, his job was being a brother. And sometimes hunting things that targeted people like Sam came with the brother job.

Instead of saying that, Dean shrugged. "I was in the area."

"You were in Colorado."

"See? Like I said. In the area."

Dean picked up his jacket and pulled his shoes on.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked, glancing up from his computer.

" _I_ have a case to finish. Besides, it's not like anyone else is going to do it."

Dean grabbed the keys and walked out of the room before he said something he couldn't take back.

**Author's Note:**

> Also, if you have any constructive criticism or anything, comments are always appreciated! 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! If you enjoyed please consider leaving a Kudos!


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